


Wedding Bells

by iruusu



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: M/M, Wedding Fluff, my most self indulgent fic yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 15:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iruusu/pseuds/iruusu
Summary: Judal had waited years to marry Sinbad, and the day had finally come. All that he needed now was something to wear.





	Wedding Bells

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone im not dead also corny title yeah i know
> 
> sorry that melt hasnt been coming out lately im like so tired i just havent had the time hriuhifhdi it should be ok by time summer comes around ive just been so tired.. have this monster of a oneshot as consolation :')
> 
> this is super self indulgent im sorry also i have to edit all of the italics tomorrow but here, i hope u enjoy :')

Ever since he was young, Judal had silently dreamed of wearing white on his wedding day. It was kind of a strange wish, but as a child Judal had always been faced with accusations that he was dirty and improper and tainted due to forces that he could not control--at least, until the Ren family had taken him in. White was known as the color of purity, of innocence, and in light of those painful memories, it had been an appealing thought for a young Judal.

This, though, was not quite what he had hoped for.

Judal was twenty-one and not once had he ever chosen to dress so simply. He liked to show off, and to be fair, he had reason to. Judal had always been told that he was very attractive: with a narrow waist and long, slender legs, standing at a height tall enough to impose presence, but small enough to remain forever endearing. There had never been a reason not to adorn himself in fineries, in jewelry and in lipstick and warm shades of eyeshadow, for they were delicate touches that easily accentuated the beauty that already laid in his features. But today, of all days, there was none of that.

Judal was well-known for his flamboyance, for his easy, androgynous grace. He could pull off most anything that he wanted if he really tried. Judal did once have an inkling of an idea to wear a dress to his wedding, one of the pretty gowns that he’d secretly worshipped in those stupid flowery bridal magazines for months, but he could never possibly humiliate his lover like that. Wouldn't Sinbad be embarrassed to see Judal walking down the aisle, dressed like a woman? Judal was certain that he would. Interestingly enough, that was what had worried Judal the most in the weeks leading up to what was supposed to have been his special day, and had stolen his sleep for days before. Judal couldn't possibly make a fool of them both for something as silly as vanity.

In the end, after torturing himself for what felt like an eternity over the simple dilemma, Judal decided that he didn't mind to sacrifice his comfort for just one day for the man whom he loved, even if it was his wedding day. It couldn't be so bad if it were only for a day. But still, Judal couldn't help but feel a bit saddened somewhere deep inside, in a place he thought he had buried years and years ago at the thought of disappointing his childhood self and his unfulfilled dream. Upon feeling a single unbidden tear slip down the curve of his cheek, Judal scoffed and hastily wiped it away with his sleeve. Suddenly, he wished more than anything that he could send the wedding photographers away so he would only have to bear it for a day, rather than for an eternity.

There were few clothes that Judal deemed worthy for a body as beautiful as his own, and this was not one of them. Judal was typically ill-suited to such stiff clothing, but this was almost so bad that it was embarrassing. The suit wasn't even white, comprised of a black tuxedo jacket and a black vest, without even a colored tie to brighten the image. Judal looked plain. Long hair pushed back and plaited simply, with no jewelry and no eyeliner; all he’d allowed himself was the painting of deep red henna on his hands, because he had wanted to pay homage to Sinbad’s culture, but that was it. Now, there was nothing but Judal, feeling raw and naked and nothing like himself. This wasn't beautiful and it certainly wasn't romantic. Judal decided that he didn't want to look back at his reflection in the mirror any more than he wanted Sinbad to see him walking down the aisle.

“What’s got you looking so down?” Kougyoku asked as she came up behind him, pretty features twisted into a sympathetic frown. Judal had been so busy pouting at his reflection in the mirror that he didn't even notice her enter the room.

“Nothing.”

There was a moment of pause, and then she asked, “have you been crying?”

“No, no,” Judal assured her too quickly, angling his head away. “Don't worry about it. I'm fine.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset,” he said, in a voice that couldn't even convince himself. Her frown deepened.

“Come on, Judal, it's your wedding day!” she insisted as she came around to face him, standing in front of the mirror to rest her pale hands upon his shoulders. “You should be happy! You've wanted this for so many years, I thought you would be bursting with excitement.”

Kougyoku was usually rather attentive to all of Judal’s whims. It was intuitive at that point in their friendship, since they had known each other for so long. But for her to discover Judal’s misgivings in mere seconds must've proven that he wore his heart on his sleeve. Was his misery so obvious, even to gullible, naïve Kougyoku?

Judal waved a hand anyway. “I’m fine. I’m just nervous.”

She pulled back and crossed her arms. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“The only ghost here is you, old hag,” he teased, pinching her cheek in a thinly veiled attempt at diversion. It failed to rile her, shocking even Judal, as there was only concern glinting in her cherry-colored eyes.

“You look too stiff,” Kougyoku decided, and reached behind him without warning to examine his braid, which hung simply down the middle of his back. “I think you’d look prettier if you let down your hair--”

“What, do you think I’m a woman or something?” Judal snapped, almost bitter, but mostly sad, and Kougyoku stopped.

“No, I don’t,” she said after a while, studying him carefully, the intricacies of his features and the way his slender figure melded poorly with his suit. “You don't look like a woman. Not right now.”

“That's the point,” Judal grumbled, snatching his braid back from her hands. “Because I’m a man.”

“Is that why you’re so upset?” Kougyoku asked gently, and when he did not respond, “because you think you look like a woman?”

“I know that I do,” said Judal, crossing his arms over his chest. “But not today. I don't want to embarrass him. Or myself.” But especially him.

“Who, Sinbad?” she asked, and wrinkled her nose in distaste, which was almost enough to make Judal smile. “That stupid old man would think you were the most beautiful thing in the world if you were wearing a trash bag over your head.”

Judal scoffed as he turned from her, feeling some foreign stinging at the backs of his eyes that made him reluctant to meet her gaze. He probably would, that idiot. “I am a man,” Judal grumbled anyways, in a way that seemed as if he wanted to convince himself more than he did her. “I won't embarrass him by trying to be something I'm not.”

“Sinbad would never be embarrassed,” Kougyoku promised, eyes gone soft at him. “Knowing that idiot, he would love to see you in a dress.”

“Who said anything about wearing a dress?” Judal spat, shooting a glare as he turned back to her, but the ferocity of his expression did little to hide the flush upon his skin. “I told you that I'm not a woman!”

“You don't have to be a woman to wear a dress,” she began. “You should wear one if you want to. Everyone deserves to feel beautiful on their wedding day.”

“Well, I don't want to wear a dress.”

Kougyoku’s lips tugged into a frown. “Do you really think that no one notices those bridal magazines you leave lying around?” She gave him a meaningful look. “You circled your favorites.”

In a poor attempt to hide his telling blush, Judal turned back to the mirror, pretending as though he were busy adjusting the tie that he hated, the collar that he hated, shrugging back the awful blazer in hopes that he might hate it less when it settled on his shoulders. (He didn't.) “Stop looking through my things.”

“I know it’s none of my business,” she said, and reached up to take Judal’s fumbling, trembling hands into her own, which forced him finally to still. “But knowing how much you love each other, you’re only going to get married once. I don't want to watch you give up your happiness for the sake of your pride.”

Judal was silent for a moment, and then he managed a shaky sigh, pulling back his hands to drag slender fingers through his combed hair, strands unusually stiff whereas they had been soft as silk the night before. “I don't want anyone to laugh at me.” His voice came out smaller than he had meant for it but it was a real concern in Judal’s mind. His friends had teased him relentlessly that he might wear a dress on his wedding day and he was determined to prove them wrong, but what was the point if he hated himself anyway?

Judal turned, then, to find his rather grim reflection in the long mirror across the room. He didn't look like himself. It was not that the clothing was too horribly tailored but rather that something as stiff and plain as this didn't suit him, didn't suit the idea he had for himself, of his bold, flamboyant visage. Judal didn't like it. It just wasn't him.

Judal felt himself growing more upset, felt the frustration and bitterness and sadness bubbling in his chest and he refused to let it escape. But the tears were already beginning to spill and there was nothing that he could do to stop them, even if he bit his lip and swallowed his cries. After all, what was a wedding without a breakdown?

“Judal…”

“I’m not crying,” said Judal, in a tone that was remarkably composed for the redness of his tear-streaked face. “So don't think that I am.”

Kougyoku nodded, understanding. “I know,” she said, smiling gently at him, reaching up a hand to try and fix his hair, combed too neatly for her liking. “Just don't think about anyone else. Think about what you want, think about the look on that stupid old man’s face when he sees how beautiful you are. Don’t deny yourself that feeling.”

Judal forced himself to look at her. Kougyoku was his oldest friend, she had always loved and supported him and he hoped that she wouldn't lie to him about something like this. But when he looked at Kougyoku there was nothing in her features that contradicted sincerity, that she truly was worried over him and his stupid pride, and that she wouldn't have cared as long as he was happy. Judal looked at her, and after a moment, his shoulders rose and fell with a long, deep sigh.

“You really think I should?”

“I think that you should do what makes you happy,” she said with firmness in her voice. “That’s what matters the most.”

A dress probably would've made him happy, Judal decided with a final sniff, rubbing at his reddened eyes with a huff. It would be hard to ignore the stares of their friends and family but what did that really matter if he and Sinbad liked it? That was all that mattered, right?

“Okay,” Judal began slowly, “but even if I wanted to, there's no time now. The wedding is in what, an hour? I could never find a dress in time.”

“Well,” said Kougyoku, lips curling into a knowing smile. “When you first told me you were going to be wearing… that,” she began with a look of disdain, “I had a feeling you might regret it.”

Judal huffed, indignant at her revelation. “You doubted me even then?”

“Was I wrong?”

After a moment of silence, Judal sighed. “I guess not,” he murmured to himself, and Kougyoku’s smile broadened.

“Come here,” said Kougyoku, and when her coaxing did not work, she tugged him along by the hand, through the bridal suite and towards the extravagant closet door. “I really hope you like it. It was really hard to figure out what you would like; I would've just asked, but you're way too stubborn to tell me.”

“Spare me the suspense,” said Judal, eyes rolling in an effort to distract from the feeling of warm anticipation that settled in his chest. “Show it to me.”

Kougyoku drew open the closet door in a flourish, revealing its contents with a broad grin set upon her face. Judal only stared at it in silence, and carefully approached the soft, white garment hanging before him. He guided a finger along the lace, along the delicate hem, felt the silk beneath his fingers in a way that gradually soothed his nerves.

“Where did you get this?”

Kougyoku managed a soft laugh. “Well,” she began, “Kouha and I went through the trouble of finding you something you might prefer to wear, just in case.”

Judal stared at it in silence, features impassive, but heart racing within his chest. “I can't wear this.”

“Do you not like it?”

“I,” Judal began, and faltered, because it was a lie to say that he didn't. “I’m not saying that,” he admitted, feeling the very beginnings of tears as they began to bud. He did like it. In fact, this had been Judal’s favorite one, the only one that Judal could easily envision himself wearing from the very first moment he saw the picture in the magazine. “But what if he laughs at me?”

“Sinbad has loved you for years,” Kougyoku gently reminded, resting a gentle hand to his shoulder. “He wouldn't laugh. All he wants is for you to be happy.”

Judal gave it a longer look. Even from a distance the dress looked to be perfectly his size, perfect for his height and figure and adhered perfectly to his tastes. There was no harm in trying it on, at least, if he found that it better suited him. And it was one of Judal’s favorite designs; he’d circled that one several times in the magazine after all. Judal didn't plan on marrying more than once in his lifetime, so this would probably have been his only chance to ever wear something so beautiful. Judal passed his fingers over the silky fabric in silent praise, and the longer he looked at it, the more he hated the tuxedo, and his resolve grew weaker and weaker by the moment.

Judal was a man but that did not mean he couldn’t have beauty. He looked down at the golden engagement ring around the finger of his painted hand, at the stupidly large diamond in the center (Sinbad was never one to do anything halfway), and sighed. Maybe, just maybe, Sinbad might think he was beautiful, too.

“Well,” he began, finding it much easier to resume studying the gleaming leather of his shoes rather than to meet Kougyoku’s surely beaming gaze. “I guess it couldn't hurt to try it on.”

Kougyoku’s voice was laced with sweetness, as if she’d never doubted him for a moment. “Let me go and find your makeup.”

The minutes ticked by in a whirl of expensive fabric and flashy gold jewelry. Kougyoku had come very prepared in the event that Judal might have changed his mind, and though he was a little insulted by her lack of faith in him he was more than grateful for the help. He wouldn't have been able to do it alone, that Judal knew for sure, so for once in his life he sat pliant and without complaint as she worked.

The suit had been the first to go. Judal had been hesitant to wear it in the first place, so it was with a much needed sigh of relief that he slid it back off of his shoulders. The makeup had come next, and although Kougyoku promised he didn't really need it Judal still liked his favorite paints and promptly decided that they would be very necessary for this special occasion. If he were going to wear the dress then he may as well go all the way. Judal’s hair had taken the longest by far to prepare; he had wanted to show off its impressive length but there were parts of it that had been pinned back from his face with delicate ornaments matched to his jewelry, holding the intricate style in place.

The dress had come last, and it was a perfect fit. Smooth, silky fabric swam against his long legs, dragging behind him just enough to look elegant and beautiful without him worrying to trip over it. Judal had liked to wear feminine things in the past but it had never been anything as extravagant as this. Even still, it was beautiful, and Judal’s nervous stomach settled a little easier now that he was at peace with himself.

When everything was done, Kougyoku stood him up and whirled him around to face her. Judal was a little dizzy from how quickly everything had happened, but when she stood back and looked him up and down, Kougyoku’s red-lipped smile went ear to ear.

“You look like a princess,” she sighed, and Judal’s expression immediately soured.

“Don't push it, hag,” he spat, and assuming that Judal did not believe her Kougyoku pushed him to stand before the tall mirror.

Judal fell silent when he finally looked at himself. Briefly in his mind flashed the image of how he’d looked before, stuffed in a tuxedo that he hated, plain and utterly boring; in essence, the perfect man. But that just wasn't who Judal was, especially not on his wedding day. Now, Judal had re-emerged as something beautiful, something completely and utterly himself. The shadow of a smile ghosted over his features before he even knew it was there.

He did kind of look like a princess.

(But he would never admit that out loud.)

“So? How do you feel?” Kougyoku asked gently, and Judal’s smile grew, just a little, in response.

Judal answered in a long, low sigh. “I… I don’t know,” he murmured just under his breath, almost as if he were in disbelief. Judal thought with a smile that he really did feel beautiful in the new clothes, like someone to be envied, someone worthy of Sinbad’s love. “I feel nice,” he admitted quietly. No, Judal felt beautiful. But now, all he could do was hope that Sinbad would think so too.

* * *

Sinbad was a world-class businessman by trade, but a sailor by heart. He’d always loved the ocean, it was what had called to him all his life, even when he was sitting behind a desk. After he’d made his extensive fortune at the modest age of twenty-five, Sinbad had decided to take a break from his prolific career and to devote his life once again to the sea, and, foremost, to Judal.

That was why they’d decided to hold a wedding at the beach, on a remote and tropical island. It just made sense, for Sinbad who had loved the sea, and for Judal, who wanted most of all to see him happy. Besides, a wedding by the ocean was supposed to be romantic, though it probably wouldn't have been if Judal had been wearing anything else.

Judal couldn't help trying to peek out through the tent set up at his end of the aisle (was it even really an aisle if they were on the beach?), trying to see if he could make out Sinbad standing tall at the far end. Judal couldn't see anything over all of the heads, and his lips pursed in distaste.

“Is that you under there, Judal?” A new voice gently teased, tugging with a light touch at the translucent veil that fell over Judal’s carmine eyes and deep, flushed cheeks. When Judal turned to find Kouen standing behind him, he couldn't hide a wry smile.

“You don't sound very surprised,” Judal mumbled under his breath, and heard Kouen as he chuckled softly to himself.

“None of us ever really thought that the traditional suit and tie was very much your style,” he admitted, smiling as Judal huffed and turned his head to the side. “You look very nice like this. Sinbad will like it.”

Quietly, Judal asked, “you think so?”

“I’m sure of it.”

Judal had never had a real paternal figure in his life, but Kouen, who was more like an elder brother to him, had promised many years ago to take him down the aisle on his wedding day. They’d been kids then, and he’d probably just meant it as a joke, but now the day had come and Kouen was ready and waiting, all for Judal’s sake.

“Thanks,” Judal murmured, feeling a little embarrassed still. It had been hard to find the courage to wear the dress and he was still a little worried to face the reaction from the guests, but especially from Sinbad.

Judal knew full and well that Kouen and Sinbad were not on the best terms, far from it. But they were the two most important men in his life, and Judal was grateful for them to be able to put aside their differences for him, just for one day, for his sake.

Judal lifted his veil just enough that his lips were uncovered, and balanced on his tiptoes to press a light kiss to Kouen’s cheek. It wasn't like Judal to show such elaborate signs of affection, but for one day, he decided that it was alright. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

Kouen cracked a smile, something rare upon his stoic features, one that reached his eyes with their warmth. “I’m glad to do it,” he assured, placing a hand to Judal’s bare, ivory shoulder that showed from beneath the fabric of the dress. “You are family, Judal. Your happiness means the world.”

To hear that, that Kouen of all people viewed Judal as a part of his family, the family that he so greatly loved and cherished, made Judal’s heart swell with pride.

Before he could say anything else, Judal heard the low hum as the first notes of the music began, and he felt himself go completely tense. The nerves were back in a crescendo of panic, Judal felt his stomach doing flips. He was going to have to walk out there and everyone was going to see him, even Sinbad. Everyone.

Kouen coughed under his breath to regain Judal’s attention, arm offered out to him, and Judal quickly latched onto him. It was easier to relax with another, anyways.

“Relax,” Kouen whispered, unmoving even under Judal’s crushing hold. “Everything is going to be alright.”

He nodded slowly, forcing a deep breath. Everything would be alright, Judal assured himself. It was just his wedding, after all.

Judal’s breathing had calmed by the time they emerged. The sand was warm under his bare feet (Judal had never been one for shoes) and the sun was finally beginning its descent, sending fractals of pink and orange light into the sea of blue beneath it. The ocean’s waves lapped over the soft music that guided Judal down the long aisle, lined with flickering torches and tropical flowers at each seated row.

As much as Judal was embarrassed by himself, he felt worlds apart from how he did in his previous attire. The long gown flowed unhindered by unnecessary ruffles and frills, smooth and flowing behind him in a long train of fabric and wrapped around his slender frame like falling water. Judal’s long, dark hair was like a splash of ink against the white, pinned partially up in an intricate fashion with enough left flowing loose to showcase its impressive length. There were personal touches too, of course, the golden jewelry that tinkled softly when he walked, around his wrists and ankles, necklaces adorning the pale canvas of his chest. A veil hid his face, and although he had told him many times before Judal silently hoped that Sinbad would find him beautiful.

Judal didn't look up at any of the standing faces as he walked. He couldn't find the courage within himself. But if he did, he would've found no shock or laughter in any of them, rather instead the gentle, knowing smiles he should've expected all along. After all, who could've been so cruel as to laugh at a person on his wedding day?

Gathering his courage, Judal peered up through the fabric of his veil to the far end of the aisle, the flowery arch, a flickering flame at the altar, with Kougyoku waiting at his empty place, and Ja’far standing at Sinbad’s, looking far less hostile than he usually appeared. But that didn't matter now. What mattered was the look on Sinbad’s face, something that took Judal’s breath away.

Sinbad was dressed as Judal would've expected of him: the traditional black tuxedo, fitted well, and Judal had expected no less. But what really took his breath away was the look on Sinbad’s face, the look of awed delight, the way his golden eyes shone just brighter at the sight of Judal, the way his grin spread just farther than it ever had before. Judal had seen Sinbad’s smile many times before but it was so very rare for Sinbad to look this sincerely happy looking at him. Judal was nervous still, had been since the day began, but he couldn't fight the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips as he walked across the sand.

Judal’s knees went weak when he finally reached the altar, when he was able to meet Sinbad face to face. He had entertained a brief moment of worry that there would be a hostile encounter between Sinbad and Kouen, as there always was when the two men interacted, but as Kouen passed Judal off of his arm and into Sinbad’s hands, they exchanged only thin-lipped smiles. Judal was immensely grateful for the ambivalence.

“Look at you,” Sinbad murmured, the awe plain in his voice. He reached forward for Judal’s veil, and Judal dipped his head to allow him access as Sinbad lifted it back off of his face. Judal must've been the picture of a blushing bride for he could feel the heat as it rose to his face, staining pale cheeks in a warm red blush. “You’re beautiful.”

Judal glanced Sinbad up and down, only for a moment, before lifting his gaze back to meet Sinbad’s golden one. “You aren't so bad yourself, Idiot.”

Sinbad’s smile only grew, and he was unable to contain a soft chuckle to himself as he eyed Judal’s extravagant gown. “I thought you said you wanted to go for something more traditional?”

“I did,” Judal admitted, realizing that he was smiling a little too, despite the wobble in his lips from remnant embarrassment. “But I kind of changed my mind. Is that alright with you?”

Sinbad squeezed Judal’s painted hands in his grasp, gentle and reassuring, smiling down at him with warmth in his eyes. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Judal felt dampness at the corners of his eyes when his lips curled into a smile, flashing his neat row of pearly whites to the man before him. Perhaps it had been foolish to worry all along. The look on Sinbad’s face defied all of the nervousness left within him, and Judal shed his fears as he went soft in Sinbad’s hands.

The longer the officiant spoke, the more Judal realized that he wasn’t really listening. He couldn't quite be bothered to listen to all of the, “we are gathered here today,” and so on and so forth. All that mattered was the way that Sinbad was looking at him, the wonderful warmth flickering in his eyes, the tenderness of his smile. Judal had gone silent but he and Sinbad were the only people in the world, even under the eye of their dearest friends and family, those of Kou and those of Sindria joined as one. Judal had never expected this support. He should’ve reveled in it, in the attention and the encouragement and yet all he could do was look into Sinbad’s eyes, mesmerized by the shade of gold he’d gazed into thousands of times before, unable to pull away.

Whatever semblance of consciousness Judal still had within him recognized that the officiant had at last called for the reciting of the vows. Judal straightened his back a little as he cleared his throat, recalling the few simple words he’d spent months memorizing to perfection, all for Sinbad’s sake.

“You have become mine,” Sinbad began, low and warm, voice melting like honey, “and we will be forever partners.”

“I have become yours,” said Judal, unable to hide the strain in his trembling voice. “Hereafter, I cannot live without you.”

“Do not live without me,” said Sinbad, giving Judal’s hands a light and reassuring squeeze that softened the harshness of his words, “for we have now become one.” Judal couldn’t help his smile.

“Let us together share all of life’s joys,” said Judal, more a whispered promise than a bold, confident vow. Sinbad smiled at him anyways

“You are my thought,” said Sinbad, “and I am your sound.”

“We are word and meaning,” said Judal, and then both of them, together, “united.”

In that moment, gazing up into Sinbad’s eyes, Judal had never wanted to kiss anyone more. But then he felt the nudge at his shoulder and found Kougyoku presenting him with the wedding band. It was for Sinbad, a simple ring of gold, but Judal was already certain that the simplicity would suit him. Everything looked good on Sinbad, after all.

Judal pulled his hands back from Sinbad’s grasp and took the ring into his trembling fingers, praying that he wouldn't drop it as he turned back to the man before him. Carefully, he took Sinbad’s left hand into his own smaller ones, and slid the gold ring gently onto his finger, admiring the way it shone against his golden skin. Judal was not entirely accustomed to such slow tenderness, but he would try his hardest for Sinbad, to treat every inch of the man he loved with the utmost care and respect. He didn't look up in time to see the warmth shining in those golden eyes.

Sinbad went next. Ja’far passed the ring over to his waiting hands, and he seemed so confident when he did it, how was he not nervous at all? Or perhaps he was just better at hiding it than Judal was. He gently slipped Judal’s trembling hand into his own and paused for a moment to study it. Judal’s hand was not particularly small but it looked so thin and frail in Sinbad’s grasp, so pale against the warm tan of his skin. Sinbad carefully slid the ring onto Judal’s finger, and Judal couldn't help but admire it: a simple gold band, but with a neat row of tiny white gems lining the middle, perfectly complementing the shimmering diamond of his engagement ring. Judal held out his hand just to admire it, smiling in reverence as he flexed his fingers, at the way the gold gleamed off of the pale white of his painted skin.

Both of his hands were in Sinbad’s before he knew anything else. The way Sinbad was smiling at him was something that he wouldn't trade for the world, and Judal was certain that his own expression was just as stupidly happy in spite of the tears rolling down his cheeks, lost in the look of Sinbad’s eyes.

For a moment, they were the only two people in the world all over again. And then, from the back of his waking mind, Judal heard it, those final, sacred words that he’d been waiting so long to hear.

“I now pronounce you partners for life.”

Judal didn't need to be told a second time.

The clapping and celebration of the guests fell on deaf ears as Judal threw his arms around Sinbad’s neck with a grin, lips smothered only by the kiss of Sinbad’s own budding smile. Sinbad held Judal firmly in the embrace, tighter than he normally would have, so overcome with passion that all notions of propriety had fled from his mind.

When their lips parted, Sinbad leaned in just closer, just enough to whisper a smiling “I love you,” that would reach Judal’s ear alone.

Judal scoffed, and pecked Sinbad’s tear-dampened cheek with a light kiss, one that made the man grin with satisfaction. “I love you too, my stupid Sinbad.”

Sinbad laughed at the words, so cruel and yet so truly affectionate in nature. In one fatal swoop he gathered Judal up into his arms, laughing aloud at how Judal yelped in his surprise, but soon he was laughing too, arms thrown around Sinbad’s neck, grinning ear to ear as Sinbad stepped away from the altar, ready to present their union to the whole world. If he listened hard enough, Judal could almost hear the chime of wedding bells resounding in the chorus of their laughter.

* * *

“This really isn't a proper threshold, you know.”

“We’re not going to be home for a few weeks anyway,” said Sinbad, smirking as he hoisted Judal up higher into his arms, grin broadening at the way Judal scrambled to keep hold on him even though Sinbad held him firmly in place. “I may as well carry you everywhere until then.”

Judal scoffed in his arms, and tried to look annoyed, he really did. But in the end, all he could manage was to hide his blushing face in Sinbad’s chest and grumble incoherencies about what an absolute idiot he was for marrying someone so stupid.

Even as his arms were filled with Judal, Sinbad still managed to swing open the door to their honeymoon suite, carrying Judal over the threshold as promised. Judal thought that it was kind of silly and lame, but that didn’t stop the blush rising to his cheeks as they passed through the doorway.

The reception hours before had been unusually peaceful on all sides, for which Sinbad and Judal were both grateful. In spite of admonitions from both sides prior to the wedding, the event itself had been remarkably free of conflict. It was rather strange; Judal had been pleaded with by his family to reconsider, and from what he had heard, Sinbad’s contemporaries had advised him much the same. Sinbad was a womanizer, they’d said, and Judal was just trouble. But they had waited so long to get married, and everything had come together so perfectly in the end, Judal couldn’t have been happier.

Sinbad took him to the bedroom, walking with extra care to ensure that he wouldn’t trip over the long train of Judal’s white dress as he did. Then, with featherlike gentleness, he set Judal down onto the red sheets that shone with the same hue of Judal’s carmine eyes. Judal laid still upon the sheets, only for a moment, as Sinbad stood over him, not moving or saying anything, just looking at him. Judal scoffed.

“Are you going to join me, idiot?” Judal asked, with spitfire in his voice but softer still, in those gentler tones he’d use when it was just the two of them and no one else was around. “Or do you just want to stare at me all night?”

Sinbad seemed to realize that he had in fact been staring, and he shook his head with a chuckle to himself. “I’m sorry,” he began, and began to shrug out of his jacket and vest, a blatant effort to occupy himself after Judal’s notice of his clear reverence. “You’re just so beautiful, I can’t help but stare.”

No matter how many times Sinbad told him that, it would never get old, and Judal would flare up just as red each and every time his lover told him that he was beautiful. It didn’t matter as much when other people said it, for usually, they didn’t. But coming from Sinbad it meant so much more to Judal, and although he basked in the praise he didn’t quite know what to say when he was the subject of it.

Instead, Judal opted to tug Sinbad down to the bed by his tie, meeting him with a kiss in the middle. Sinbad laughed as he relented, seating himself on the bed by Judal’s side, as per his wishes.

“I mean it,” said Sinbad when he finally broke the kiss, a whisper that was so close that Judal could feel the warm breath against his jaw. “You’re beautiful, Judal.”

In spite of his blush, Judal cracked the faintest smile. “You really think so, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sinbad said with a playful smile as Judal put both arms around his neck. “I do.”

Judal had been so nervous about his attire earlier in the day, but everything turned for the better the moment he’d opted for the dress instead. He had been told by many of the guests that he looked beautiful wearing it, but none of that compared to the way Sinbad had said it, had purred it under his breath with that look in his eyes. Kougyoku was right; the look on Sinbad’s face was not something that Judal would trade for anything.

“You didn’t mind the dress, right?” Judal asked, just to make sure, as he undid Sinbad’s tie, fumbling with the knot of it, until at last it slid off in one clean swipe. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“Don’t worry, it was a very nice surprise,” Sinbad teased as he extended a hand to brush back a lock of Judal’s hair that had fallen over his eyes. “You were just so adamant about wearing the suit that I didn't want to pressure you, but I always thought that you would look very beautiful in a dress. Not that you don't look beautiful in everything.”

“Of course I do,” Judal huffed, leaning in to the careful touch that caressed his hair, like a cat to a loving hand. “I didn’t want to wear it at first. I didn't want to embarrass you.”

Sinbad’s features softened, and he tugged Judal closer as he unpinned the veil and pressed a kiss to Judal’s crown of dark, silky hair. “You could never embarrass me, Judal.” Sinbad’s hand lifted to comb his fingers gently through the dark strands, smoothing out the tangles as carefully as he could manage. “I love you.”

Judal hummed softly in response, burying his face in Sinbad’s chest to hide the stupefied look spread across his features. Sinbad had always been very understanding in regards to Judal’s style of dress; whereas many people had often teased him about it, a thought that made his expression sour, Sinbad had always been kind about it, had always assured Judal that he was pretty no matter what he wore, and never pressured him into wearing anything that he didn’t like. Coming from Sinbad, a man who had sampled all the world’s exotic beauty, it meant more than anything.

Slowly, Judal pulled back his face from where it was buried in Sinbad’s chest, far enough that he could gaze into the shimmering gold of his eyes. “Kiss me,” Judal whispered.

He didn’t need to say it again.

Sinbad was gentle as he came forward and pressed a slow, sweet kiss to Judal’s plush lips. For all of his bite Judal’s kisses were slow and rather sweet in their innocence, perhaps like Judal, who was mean and brash when he was around others, but quieter when he was with the people he cared for the most. Sinbad put his hand to the side of Judal’s cheek and angled his delicate face into the kiss, working tirelessly to coax his lips into motion.

The kiss was broken by Sinbad after hardly enough time in each other’s embrace, Judal’s lips just as tender and swollen from the kiss as if it had been his first one. Judal frowned, and tugged a hand into Sinbad’s long hair to express his dissatisfaction, fingers snagging on the tie, an opportunity that he used to free it from the ponytail that Sinbad so favored. “I thought I told you to kiss me,” said Judal, lips twisting into a frown.

“I will,” Sinbad promised, lips tugging into a smile as he leaned forward to press a kiss to Judal’s cheek. “But even though you make a very pretty bride, I think you’d look even prettier if that dress were on the floor.”

Judal scoffed. “God, you’re so stupid,” he complained, but when he rolled his eyes it was with mirth rather than with any sort of genuine irritation, and he was unable to conceal his gentle smile. Judal began the process of removing the garment, but Sinbad’s hand went over his and stopped him before he could.

“I thought you wanted to--”

“Relax,” said Sinbad in that low, rumbling tone, the one that made a shiver run up Judal’s spine just to hear it. “Allow me.”

Judal rolled his eyes with a playful snort, but relented, and removed his hand from where it laid under Sinbad’s. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting when he allowed Sinbad to take control of this, of undressing him in the most intimate way possible, but the moment he felt Sinbad’s touch against his skin Judal was certain that was ready to melt under the skilled hands roaming carefully over his skin.

Sinbad was very gentle as he began to peel the garments from Judal’s skin, fingers slipping under the hems to loosen snug fabric that hugged Judal’s narrow frame. With each new inch of skin revealed, Sinbad would pause just to kiss it, so that he could bless every inch of Judal with unwavering adoration, to treat every bit of him with all of the love and respect in the world.

Sinbad trailed kisses across Judal’s collarbone as he worked, traveling up to peck at the tender column of his long neck as he worked at all of the intricate little chains Judal had adorned himself in. They fell with a soft tinkling into Judal’s lap, precious things made unimportant by the heat of Sinbad’s touch, by the way he placed a hand under Judal’s arched back as he slid the dress lower on Judal’s body, pressing kisses to his stomach and to his chest, as though Judal were something to be worshipped, something to be cherished by a man as worthy as Sinbad.

Judal didn’t feel the need to moan or to gasp as much as he did to hide his face stained with blush; Sinbad must not have known what he was doing to him like this, to pamper him and to treat him as though he were the most beautiful thing in the world.

Once it was off, the dress had been left to slide onto the floor beside the bed, and Judal nearly admonished Sinbad for his poor treatment of it. But now Sinbad’s lips were peppering kisses along Judal’s long, slender legs, and then, much to his chagrin, Sinbad found the lacy white garter that hugged at Judal’s pale, supple thigh.

“I didn’t think you were much for things like this,” Sinbad teased, sliding a careful thumb under the simple, lace band. Judal had decided that it would be much too tacky to actually throw his garter at the reception, but he’d worn one anyways, just for himself. “How cute.” Judal huffed at Sinbad’s words.

“Keep your dumb comments to yourself,” Judal complained, burning under the new wave of bashfulness that washed over him. “Just take it off, already.”

Sinbad chuckled, allowing a breath that was warm enough for Judal to feel it against his bare legs, sending goosebumps all across his sensitive skin. “As you wish, princess,” he conceded, and then, with his teeth, tugged the garter slowly down the length of Judal’s long, slender thigh, and at that point Judal was certain that Sinbad was being painfully slow just to torture him. When he’d had his fun and freed Judal’s limbs from their constraints, he tossed the garter to the side with a playful growl that made Judal roll his eyes, still wearing that ever present smile.

Judal sat up from where he’d laid previously, sparing the time to carefully work his fingers through undoing Sinbad’s button-down shirt as the kisses rained unrelenting down upon him, Sinbad having decided that Judal’s long, elegant neck was the prime location for him to layer his affections. It was not a very productive way to get Sinbad out of his clothes, thought Judal belatedly, but he certainly wasn't complaining about that, when the kisses were so warm and sweet and loving, Judal’s fingers lost all sense as he melted into the touch.

“You’re… making this very difficult,” Judal complained, but all that changed was the way Sinbad was smiling into his kisses now, for Judal could feel the curve of his lips as they pressed against his tender skin.

“What fun would there be if it were easy?” Sinbad asked as he tugged back from Judal’s face, far enough that he could look into his eyes, that he could see the blush dusting his pale cheeks. Nevertheless, when Judal pouted Sinbad relented, and chose to press his kiss only to the curve of Judal’s cheek, delighting in the way that red seemed to spread from the place his lips had touched. “Here,” he whispered, lightly nudging Judal’s shoulder. “Turn around for me.”

Judal trusted Sinbad enough not to ask questions as he turned, allowing Sinbad access to the wide expanse of milky skin that made his slender back, and the dark curtain of hair that fell against it. With careful hands, Sinbad drew each intricate pin from Judal’s dark hair, watching with awe as the strands unraveled from the ornate style, spilling like ink across the bare canvas of his skin. Sinbad set aside the fragile ornaments along with Judal’s jewelry (except for the rings; those he would never take off) and spared a moment to admire Judal’s hair, playing his fingers through the strands, long and soft as silk.

It really did touch Judal’s heart to have Sinbad caring so deeply for his hair, especially knowing how much Judal cared for it. Sinbad combed through the dark strands gently with his fingers, careful not to pull, and then lifted a lock of it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against it, a gesture that made a shiver run up Judal’s spine and sent heat blazing to his cheeks.

Judal leaned back into Sinbad’s embrace, resting himself against the hard wall of muscle that was Sinbad’s bare chest, reveling in how Sinbad pressed kisses to the top of his head, to his temple and to his forehead, peppering little butterfly kisses across every inch of exposed skin in his reach.

“I love you,” Sinbad whispered between kisses, breath warm against Judal’s skin. “I love you so much, Judal.”

Judal laughed softly, one that sent glassy tears bubbling at the corners of his eyes, but these tears were not bitter nor disdainful, these were true and raw and happy, and Judal wasn’t afraid to let them roll down his cheeks. “Don’t be stupid,” Judal murmured, shifting himself in Sinbad’s arms so that he could bless Sinbad with all of the love and affection that he had been given, sending kisses all across the panes of his tanned skin. Sinbad’s embrace was warmer than it had ever been, warm enough that Judal didn’t ever want to leave, and now, he didn’t have to. “I love you too, Sinbad,” Judal whispered, before throwing his arms around Sinbad’s neck and raining the kisses down upon him.

The night had been long and spent in each other’s arms, filled with whispered promises and skin against skin and touch against touch and kisses like Judal had never known. While the wedding day itself had been long and eventful and filled with stress and excitement beyond belief, this was different. This was sweet and intimate and perfect, and in the heat of Sinbad’s embrace Judal knew that he was not going to fall asleep any time soon, but that he could rest easily when he did.

For Sinbad and Judal were partners for life. In the end, that was all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> surprise i like it when judal wears dresses (no one is surprised)
> 
> all feedback is appreciated!! <3


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